Minor Extension
by Like-Omg-Like-Seddie
Summary: Sure, it was decided that the both of them would be better off if they just stayed friends. But is that really what they want? SEDDIEE.


**Here's an one-shot. Takes place right after the *sniff sniff* breakup. Anyone else just a little bit peeved at Dan? I mean, I feel like he just ... went about Seddie all wrong. I mean, I guess he didn't really have any inspiration from a wide variety of fanfictions on the subject. Oh wait HE DID.**

**Read to your hearts content.**

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><p>11:45.<p>

At that moment, there wasn't a place I'd rather be but in his arms. And that was saying something, because they were Freddie's arms. Freddie's newly strong and muscled arms.

Freddie, who I was so sure I hated, yet was now verbally proclaiming my undying affection for.

My head was spinning from all the changes that were happening in my life.

Secretly being in love with him.

Kissing him unexpectedly.

Getting kissed unexpectedly.

Dating him.

Loving him.

Needing him.

11:47.

I needed Freddie. Can you believe that? If someone would have told me a few months ago that I would lie on my bed at night wishing Freddie was lying next to me, running his fingers through my hair, whispering sweet nothings into my ear, pressing his soft lips to my neck ... I'd probably laugh in their face before beating them relentlessly.

We were swaying back and forth to silent music that wasn't playing.

11:49.

I was counting the minutes. Hell, I was counting the seconds. I wonder if he was too. If he was regretting our decision, wishing, hoping, praying that I'd shake my head and tell him I wanted to stay together. Of course I didn't, but not because I wanted to break up either. I just didn't want to be the clingy girlfriend who begs him not to leave me. Maybe he didn't want to be either. Maybe he felt the exact same way as I did. In that case, it wouldn't matter which one of us spoke up as long as one of us did, for the sake of our relationship.

11:51.

But neither of us did. Maybe he_ didn't _feel the exact same way. Nonetheless, Freddie was a smart kid. If he said it wasn't healthy for us to be together, than he was probably right. Like Carly'd said, we'd taken a small connection and forced it into a relationship.

But ...

I can't help feeling that it was more than just a simple connection.

I've had connections with guys before, I'm sure Freddie has with other girls.

But with Freddie it wasn't just a 'connection'.

A small connection is like when you accidentally go to grab the same CD at Starbucks as the cute guy in line behind you, and you're hand touches theirs.

A small connection is like when you poke your crush on Facebook and he posts a status saying, "Gahh! I've been hit! Tell my mother ... I love her ... "

A small connection is irrational, illogical. An exaggeration of what really is.

With Freddie and me, it was different.

Every time our lips touched, surges of energy went through my body. Kissing him gave me a high I couldn't get from any drug. It felt like we were floating above ground, apart from whatever or whoever was in the room. When I held his hand I felt like it didn't matter where he went, that I would just let him pull me along without even a protest. It was like, even if the entire universe was against our being together, the only thing that would make me want to stay was if he touched me. A kiss, a hug, held my hand ... it didn't matter how. If there was any reason for us to be together, it was what happened when we touched. It was like, when you have two magnets and you're trying to put them together as they repel: after trying for a while, you think it's pretty hopeless. But when you get them to touch that one time, you feel like you've accomplished something amazing. And I understand that is extremely cliché, but I've never even been able to describe any of my relationships with cliché's.

Have you ever watched those TV shows where a couple breaks up and the girl's complaining to her friend about how she feels empty without him and needs him and she's blubbering all over the place like a pathetic freak? If you're mentally stable, you probably mock this poor unfortunate soul for kicks. And hey, there was once a time when I would too. But then... standing there at 11:53 with Freddie's arms around me while we swayed back and forth in silence, neither of us saying anything, neither of us daring to let go ... I suddenly knew exactly what they were talking about.

11:56.

My heart began beating faster, out of control. I'm sure he could feel the rhythm of my heartbeat on his chest. I tried to calm myself, with no success. He began rubbing my back, and I slowly let my breath follow his, my feet follow his, our every move in sync.

11:57.

I felt that sickening feeling in the pit of my throat. I wanted to throw up and cry and die all at the same time. Never in my life have I experienced a feeling like that ... except a few times that I can barely remember.

I used to get spells like that when I was younger, like super young. Only when I saw my dad for the first and last time. While watching him walk out is still quite a blur, I remember my reaction effortlessly. It was like I didn't have control over my body. Like every function of my body that was involuntary all of a sudden stopped working on its own. I had to fight to breath. I had to push to blink. It was the worst, most disgusting and terrifying feeling I'd ever experienced and until then, in the elevator with Freddie, I hadn't remembered how horrible it felt. My first time experiencing loss. It was the kind of loss that you can't control no matter how hard you try. It's not like when you lose your right sock or your lucky underwear. It's the loss that you least expect, the loss that you hear about, but shrug away and never hope to experience, the loss that feels like you're hearts been removed from your chest with the jaws of life and jammed into a paper shredder. The loss that takes you months to bounce back from. The loss that changes your life forever.

11:59.

I closed my eyes tightly and a tear escaped.

I squeezed him tighter so he couldn't escape.

The alarm on his phone went off. After a brief pause, he pulled away. He looked at me. I could see the hurt and confusion on his face, in his clenched jaw.

"That's midnight." But he didn't say goodbye. He didn't say good riddance. He stood there staring at me, waiting for me to respond and holding both my hands in his. I looked away from him, only because the way he was looking at me was way too intense for me to handle. I attempted to take a deep breath, although I sounded like I was having an asthma attack.

"Just ... 12:30..." I was proposing, but he wasn't responding. That scared me. That half second where he didn't say yes or no or maybe, that half second where _I _admitted that I wasn't ready to let go. That half second where I hit rock bottom and became that clingy girlfriend, begging him not to leave me. Don't judge me when I tell you what I said next. "Please ..."

Turns out I didn't have to get on my knees, but trust and believe that I was getting there. He pressed his head against mine, put my arms around his neck and put his hands on my waist. I could feel his warm breath on my face. It calmed me immediately, I didn't feel the scary feeling anymore; I could breath without having to think about it again. Finally, finally after I waited for him to reply, after I received the mixed messages of his silence conflicting with him not leaving all together, finally he said something. They were the sweetest five words I'd ever heard.

"I thought you'd never ask."

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><p><strong>Fin.<strong>


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